


i'm going to make this place your home

by GoldenTruth813



Series: Home Is In your Heart [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Boys In Love, Come Eating, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, First Time, Keith can never look at a strawberry again, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Rimming, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, Service Top Shiro, Shiro thirst, Teasing, Top Shiro (Voltron), peaches are the horniest fruit, this is dirty but soft okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22242910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: Even with his hand over his face, Keith squeezed his eyes shut. He felt like a fucking idiot for being nervous. This was Shiro, the boy who’d built blanket forts with him at five, played astronaut with him when they were ten, held his hand on the first day of middle school, and once burped out the alphabet to make him laugh. It was just Shiro. His best friend.And yet.Or, the one where Keith loses his virginity under a peach tree.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Home Is In your Heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600981
Comments: 82
Kudos: 404





	i'm going to make this place your home

**Author's Note:**

> This is set six months after "This Christmas I'll Give You My Heart" but can really be read as a stand alone smut fic all you need to know is that Shiro and Keith were childhood best friends and they invented love.
> 
> All my uwu to whiskyandwildflowers for being an incredible beta and friend.

Nearly a week back and Keith still wasn’t over the sense of calm that permeated him on a daily basis. Some of that was due to being back with Shiro, sure. But he also knew that a lot of it was just being back home with its fresh air and wide open skies. It was hard to believe there’d been a time when he was a teenager where he’d wanted nothing more than to get away. 

Now, Keith was really fucking happy to be home.

On the horizon, he spotted Shiro in the strawberry fields—body bent in half as he filled the giant metal basket on the ground near his feet. Keith picked up his pace, eager to see Shiro again—as eager as if he hadn’t seen him less than twelve hours before. It didn’t matter that Keith had spent all afternoon with him yesterday, sprawled out on his mom's sofa eating pizza and watching Netflix. Or that Shiro had called him a few hours later whispering _I miss you_ , and letting Keith fall asleep to the sound of his beautiful voice filtering through the phone. Or that Keith had been unable to stop from sending Shiro half a dozen texts as he ate his breakfast, even though he’d known Shiro was already out working hard and unlikely to see them. There was an itch in Keith’s soul that only Shiro could scratch.

He was starting to think maybe he was an addict. A Shiro addict. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of the sound of his voice, or the sight of his lips curling up a smile meant just for Keith, or the way Shiro’s strong arms felt wrapping around him. 

If Keith had wanted Shiro before when they were just friends, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. Getting together with Shiro hadn’t quenched his thirst, it’d increased it to the point where Keith spent most of his waking hours thinking about Shiro.

The closer Keith got to the strawberry field, the more that itch intensified.

Shiro was squatting down in between the last two rows of strawberries at the edge of the field, his already-too-small jeans stretched so tight across the girth of his thighs they looked like they might very just split open. Keith could only imagine what his ass looked like from behind—the swell of it barely contained in tight denim. He had on another long sleeve plaid shirt, likely to protect his arms from the sun. But the buttons were undone so that it hung off the edges of his shoulders and the obscenely thin, tight white tank top he wore beneath was on full display. 

Keith’s pace quickened, stomach fluttering and dick twitching with interest as he got close enough to see the beads of sweat slipping down the side of Shiro’s neck and pooling at the hollow of his clavicle. There was a smudge of dirt on his cheek and a smattering of it across the flat of his stomach. He was sweaty and dirty, and it was completely and utterly unfair that it made Shiro even hotter. He was even wearing a ridiculously large sun hat to protect his ears and the back of his neck—a hat that looked like something his mom would wear while she puttered around the garden fixing her hoard of evil gnomes. It was such a stupid looking hat, yet somehow it made Keith want to do things to Shiro that made him feel dirtier than Shiro looked.

It was fucking ridiculous and unfair because Keith hadn’t even said hello yet and already he was so fucking horny for Shiro that his stupid overeager dick made walking difficult.

Shiro’s grandma said he’d been out here for hours already, attempting to harvest enough berries for the weekend tourists likely to blow through town for the long weekend tomorrow. Keith had meant to come out and urge him to come inside and rest, maybe even eat some lunch. He’d intended to be a good boyfriend and invite Shiro to the movies on a real date like he deserved. Even if they were already together, Keith couldn’t quiet the little monster in his chest screaming _he’s yours, take good care of him_. He’d never done this before, never dated, well,anyone. And this wasn’t just anyone. This was _Shiro_. He knew logically he didn’t need to woo Shiro, and that Shiro seemed perfectly content to eat cold pizza on the couch so long as he was with Keith. But Shiro was perfect and sweet and funny, and Keith wanted to treat him right.

Instead he was just standing in the dirt staring at Shiro and wondering if greeting your lifelong best friend—who also happened to be your new boyfriend—with a raging hard-on was flattering or inappropriate. 

Technically, they’d been together for just over six months now, but most of that had been long distance. They’d only spent a few days together before Keith had to fly back to school. He’d only been home for the summer for just over a week now and honestly, it was a bit of a mind fuck for Keith. One minute everything with Shiro felt so fragile and new that he could barely breathe as Shiro’s fingers ghosted across his stomach, and the next minute Keith was laughing so hard he was snorting as Shiro joked about the time they’d tried to use their dicks as swords when they were little kids.

Keith was still settling into the whole _my best friend in the whole universe is also my entire universe and I want to love and treasure him but also I’m really fucking horny all the time_ thing. Especially since Keith’s sexual experiences were, well, basically nonexistent. A fact he’d somehow been unable to bring himself to mention to Shiro.

Keith knew Shiro was following his lead in what they talked about regarding Keith’s first few years away. It wasn’t as if Keith avoided it completely, but he also didn’t like to spend too much time thinking about how lonely or isolated he’d let himself get. And even worse, it seemed too pathetic to tell Shiro that he’d left for college a virgin and come back one too. Logically, Keith knew virginity was a social construct and being a twenty-two year virgin didn’t make him a loser. But sometimes logic and feelings were fucking stupid and messy. Keith ached with how much he wanted Shiro, but also with how terrified he was of his inexperience being fucking obvious.

Back before he’d left, they’d told each other everything because it was what best friends did. Keith had never wanted to stop Shiro from sharing things just because Keith had secretly been in love with him. So he knew all about Shiro losing his virginity in the back of his ex-boyfriend's truck when he was seventeen, and the way his ex had dumped him just a few weeks later when he found out that Shiro was giving up his full scholarship to college to stay home and take care of his grandparents and their farm. Shiro had refused to let Keith kill him, and the only thing that had given Keith any satisfaction was knowing that Shiro’s ex was a terrible fuck and couldn’t find hisprostate. 

Shiro had dated people after that, but nothing serious, and to Keith’s knowledge he hadn’t slept with anyone else after that. He’d always claimed he was too busy, but now with Shiro’s previous confession Keith couldn’t help but wonder if it’d been because of him. Because Shiro had wanted Keith. He didn’t know if Shiro had slept with anyone while he was away, and he didn’t want to know. All that mattered now was that Shiro was Keith’s.

So yeah, Keith knew who they had or hadn’t been with didn’t matter. He knew Shiro wouldn’t judge him or care. Shiro wasn’t like that. Shiro was fucking perfect. Which was sort of the fucking problem.

Keith wanted so much, and trying to figure out how to tell Shiro what he wanted was scarier than he’d thought. Shiro was his best friend. They told each other everything. So saying _hey I love when we kiss but I’m kind of desperate for more and I know you want to be a gentleman and take it slow but I’ve been in love with you half my life and I might die if you don’t touch my dick or fuck me_ was apparently not something that just rolled off the tongue.

So, instead of saying any of that—instead of telling Shiro that he looked like a walking wet dream—Keith just stood there stupidly with the midday sun beating down on the top of his head as he stared at Shiro picking strawberries and tried to ignore the throbbing of his dick and the rapid fluttering sensation in his chest. 

“Keith,” Shiro said a moment later, dropping the handful of strawberries cupped in his prosthetic into his basket and rising to stand. “How long have you been standing there?

“Not long,” he answered evasively. “I was just watching you.”

“Oh,” Shiro breathed, cheeks flushing a pretty pink. “I’m a mess.”

 _I want to make a mess of you_ , Keith thought, nearly choking on his own tongue.

His boyfriend was so fucking hot he was pretty sure his brain was literally short circuiting. It’d been easy to ignore his horniness and just jerk off in the showers ten times a day while he was in New York because Shiro was three thousand miles away and fantasies were all he had. But now Shiro was standing in front of him in the flesh, and the sight of his sun-kissed smile was doing things to Keith that made him feel fucking crazy.

“Nuh-uh,” Keith managed to get out, surprised when his feet started inching closer to Shiro. “Pretty. You’re pretty.”

Shiro’s blush deepened, and the desire in Keith that had been simmering flared.

He liked making Shiro blush, liked knowing how much Shiro enjoyed being told he was pretty. Or liked it when it was Keith saying it anyway. He wondered what other things Shiro might like being told, or where else he might blush.

Keith took a step forward—suddenly desperate to get closer to Shiro—but he shook his head, nodding towards the ground. “I'll come to you. We irrigated yesterday so it’s really muddy out here. You’ll ruin your shoes.”

“Right,” Keith mumbled, noticing the mud covering Shiro’s boots for the first time. 

Shiro grinned, ducking his head as he trudged through the mud and closed the few feet separating them. 

“Hi,” Shiro breathed, setting his bucket of strawberries at Keith’s feet and leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Keith tried to chase his mouth, but Shiro stopped him with a warm hand to the center of his chest. “I’m so dirty, baby.”

“Don’t care,” Keith said, unable to quell the whine in his voice.

Shiro laughed softly, tilting his head down so that his enormous hat shaded their faces from the sun as he kissed Keith again. He was clearly trying not to touch Keith’s body with his own in some gentlemanly attempt not to get Keith dirty, but all it did was make Keith feel crazy.

Shiro’s lips were so fucking warm and he tasted like fresh strawberries. Keith’s dick was so hard it fucking hurt as Shiro let out a breathy little sigh and deepened the kiss. The slide of their lips, the scent of strawberry fields filling his nose, and Shiro’s body so close sent Keith’s head spinning.

When Shiro pulled back he was panting slightly as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and stared at Keith with an intensity that burned brighter than the sun. Keith didn’t think he’d ever been more turned on in his fucking life, and all Shiro had done was kiss him. 

He tried to think unsexy thoughts to try and will down his erection so that he could be a good boyfriend like Shiro deserved and remind Shiro that he hadn’t eaten all day, but all Keith could do was breathe through his nose and try not to pass out because Shiro was still staring at him and he was so pretty and so close, and Keith wanted him so bad he thought he might cry. His only hope was to not draw too much attention to the dick currently trying to fight its way out of Keith’s pants like an angry dragon, except he failed there too when he glanced down to see how noticeable it was and Shiro’s eyes followed his.

Shiro let out a soft sound, something kind of needy that caught in the back of his throat.

“Fuck,” Keith groaned, covering his face with his hands. This was not fucking happening. Not in the middle of a fucking farm in broad daylight. 

“You’re hard,” Shiro breathed, very clearly not ignoring Keith’s traitorous dick. 

“Yes,” Keith answered, cheeks heating when Shiro pried the fingers off his face. The only upside was that he didn’t seem to find it inappropriate. If anything, Shiro seemed unable to take his eyes off it which just served to make Keith, if possible, even harder.

“You’re hard because I kissed you.” It wasn’t a question, so Keith didn’t feel the need to answer, thank fuck. 

He inhaled slowly through his nose, unsure where to put his stupid fucking arms. Had they always been so long? Fuck, what did someone do with their hands when the love of their life was staring at their dick and they desperately wanted said person to be touching said dick? 

His next inhale was slower, and Keith tried to slow the erratic beating of his heart. _Shiro_ , he reminded himself. This was only Shiro.

Unfortunately, that didn’t make it any easier to handle because it was _Shiro_. It wasn’t some random person Keith wanted to get off with—never had been, never would be—it was the person he really fucking hoped to spend his entire life with. He just didn’t want to fuck things up. In theory, it shouldn’t be that hard to tell Shiro that, as much as he appreciated Shiro letting Keith take the lead so he was comfortable, Keith wanted more. He should be able to say _I really want you to touch me or I might die_ , but he couldn’t seem to make his mouth work.

Thankfully, Shiro still possessed more than two brain cells. 

“Keith,” Shiro whispered, grazing his fingertips along the inside of Keith’s wrist and across his palm. He was still staring and he definitely didn’t seem upset by the unexpected turn of events. If anything, he looked mesmerized. And turned on. Because of Keith. “Baby, can I—”

“Yes,” Keith blurted. 

“I, uh, didn’t say what I wanted,” Shiro uttered, now stroking his fingers over the fluttering pulse point at Keith’s wrist. 

“Anything,” Keith whispered. “Whatever it is, I’ll say yes. Would give you anything. I’m yours and—”

Shiro dropped to his knees, and any remaining bit of coherency left Keith’s brain. Shiro was on his goddamn fucking knees for Keith—kneeling before Keith in the mud with smashed strawberries now staining his jeans and his mouth hanging open as he looked up at Keith waiting for permission. As if Keith would fucking say no.

There wasn’t a single bit of Keith’s brain left that was capable of speech so he nodded his head in what he prayed was enough of an answer for Shiro. For a second he feared it wasn’t, because Shiro shoved his face into Keith’s tummy, his nose shoved into Keith’s belly button. His sun hat fell to the dirt as he nuzzled his face into Keith’s stomach—his big hands finding purchase low on Keith’s hips.

Keith wanted to say something. Anything. But his stupid fucking brain wouldn’t work and instead of an actual fucking word all that came out was an unintelligible sound.

“Shh, gonna make you feel so good, baby,” Shiro whispered, unlooping his fingers from the belt loops on Keith’s jeans to ruck his shirt up and press a filthy, open-mouthed kiss to the skin just below his belly button.

Keith nearly screamed.

Shiro hummed again, mouthing at the thick trail of hair that lead down into Keith’s jeans as he dropped Keith’s shirt and moved his hands to the buttons instead. If Shiro noticed the inhuman noise Keith made as his dick was freed and his pants were tugged down to his hips, he said nothing. Keith could hardly believe he was standing in the middle of a fucking strawberry field with his dick out. It was one of the most unexpected turns his life had taken and also one of the best.

Privately, Keith had spent years picturing what Shiro might look like on his knees. His fantasies didn’t hold a candle to the reality.

Shiro was fucking beautiful like that—reverent eyes turned up to gaze at Keith as he shoved the t-shirt up Keith’s stomach. He hovered there for a few seconds, face just a few inches from Keith’s dick then opened his mouth.

Keith very nearly fucking blacked out at the sight of his dick sliding into Shiro’s willing mouth.

Shiro kept his eyes on Keith as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked. The air was punched from Keith’s lungs, and trying to breathe through his nose just made him feel lightheaded as the scent of summer and strawberries flooded his nostrils at the same time that Shiro’s strong tongue slid up the underside of Keith’s dick.

He tried to tell Shiro it felt good but, again, words seemed to fail him and instead all that came out of his mouth was a painfully embarrassing noise that sounded like a dying hippo. 

Shiro didn’t laugh at him though, just spread his fingers out over Keith’s stomach—his thumbs digging into the soft flesh—as he continued to work Keith's dick into his eager mouth. The tip of his dick hit the back of Shiro’s throat. It felt so fucking good he didn’t know how he’d survived twenty-two years on Earth without Shiro’s mouth on his dick. 

Shiro hummed loud and deep, a sound that rumbled out of his chest and sent vibrations into Keith’s dick, as if sucking Keith’s dick was good _for him_. 

Keith blinked twice, forcing his eyes open to stare at his dick which was burried in Shiro’s pretty fucking mouth. He tilted his head, the tip of his dick bulging out of Shiro’s cheek before pulling back and switching up the angle so that it was sliding back towards his throat again. It hit the back and Keith was sure that Shiro was gonna pull off, but instead he inhaled a shuddering breath and somehow took Keith deeper so that his dick was actually slipping down into Shiro’s throat. Shiro’s nose was pressed into the thick, curly hair above Keith’s dick, and Keith did his best not to cry.

Keith was one hundred and ten percent sure the only reason he hadn’t fucking fainted was because he would never forgive himself if he didn’t memorize the sight of Shiro sucking his dick like it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

Keith had imagined a lot of scenarios for this over the years. He was pretty sure his entire senior year of high school had been spent masturbating in the shower to the fantasy of Shiro begging to suck him. But for all those fantasies, he’d somehow never truly considered that Shiro would like it like this. Would be moaning and whimpering and humming as he lapped at Keith’s dick like it was the best thing he’d ever had in his mouth—as if being allowed to suck Keith’s dick made him happy.

Because it was obvious that Shiro was really fucking happy right now. He wasn’t holding anything back—fingers twitching against Keith’s stomach and digging in lightly as he bobbed his head. The corner of Shiro’s eyes were watering and he was inhaling short little breaths through his nose and tickling Keith’s stomach as he took him in as deep as humanly possible. For a second Keith felt certain that Shiro might suck his fucking soul from his goddamn dick, and he screwed his eyes shut and shoved his fist into his mouth to stop himself from coming.

It was too soon. He didn’t want it to be over. He wanted it to last fucking forever

Then in a horrifying turn of events Keith’s dick slipped out of Shiro’s mouth, the warm breeze sending a shiver up his spine as his spit soaked dick just hung there.

“Look at me,” Shiro said, his voice rough. Rough because Keith’s dick had been down the back of his fucking throat.

“Shiro,” Keith all but sobbed, surprised he managed to get his name out.  
“Fuck, baby. You’re so beautiful. Wanna make you feel so good. Want you to watch me make you feel good,” Shiro breathed, reaching out and taking one of Keith’s shaking hands in his and moving it to the top of his head. Keith got the idea quickly, brushing the sweaty bits of white hair off Shiro’s forehead before slipping his hand into the bangs and fisting it.

The sound Shiro made in response was nothing short of sinful, and he waited until Keith’s eyes were on his before he opened his mouth again. He was slower this time, rubbing his lips over the cockhead and letting the precome smear over his strawberry-stained lips. 

It was the single most erotic thing Keith had ever seen. A sight that would be burned into Keith’s memory forever. The only thing dirtier than Shiro’s muddy knees were the hedonistic sounds he made as he sucked Keith down deeper and deeper—the tip of his dick slipping into the tight warmth of Shiro’s throat once more.

Shiro’s eyes fluttered shut as Keith’s dick slipped further down, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes and a hum of pleasure vibrating around Keith’s dick. Shiro looked blissed out from choking on Keith’s dick and it was too fucking much. His dick was sheathed in wet, tight warmth while his nose was filled with the scent of summer and his hands full of Shiro’s hair. 

Every nerve ending in Keith’s body was strung out on pleasure. He’d never felt so taken apart in his entire life.

It didn’t matter that it’d only been a few minutes or that Keith wished it could last longer, because he was helpless to slow the desire working its way through his body—pleasure coiling up his spine and pooling at the base of his dick. Despite his inexperience, he was pretty sure warning the other person was the polite thing to do, but the second he opened his mouth to tell Shiro he was close turned out to be the moment Shiro moved his hands around to Keith’s ass and let them dig deep into the flesh as he urged Keith’s dick all the way down his throat so that Shiro’s nose was smashed against the flesh of Keith’s lower stomach.

Instead of a warning, what came out of Keith’s mouth was a sob as he came—legs shaking and body trembling.

Shiro was clearly a little surprised if the choking noise he made was any indication, but he didn’t seem bothered in the least, quickly adapting as he pulled back and swallowed down Keith’s release. A bit of it dribbled out of the corner of his mouth as he licked at Keith’s softening dick, and Keith could do nothing but whimper as he held onto Shiro’s hair for dear life.

It wasn’t until Keith’s dick was soft, and so sensitive it nearly hurt, that Shiro finally pulled back. Then he just sat there on his heels looking fucking ruined with his red, swollen lips and come dripping down his chin, his watery eyes turned up on Keith and the world’s most adoring smile on his face.

“Thank you,” Keith choked out. 

The second the words were out of his mouth he felt a little silly for saying them but there was no taking them back so he just stood there with his chest heaving and his soft dick just fucking hanging there in the middle of a strawberry field in front of Shiro’s face, and tried to remember how to breathe.

Apparently, it was the right thing to say if the almost shy smile that spread across his face was any indication. It was hard to imagine Shiro looking bashful, especially after he’d been choking on Keith’s dick, but he never had been good at accepting thanks or praise.

Keith stroked back the hair off Shiro’s face, mesmerized by the way his dark lashes fanned across his cheekbones as his eyes fluttered shut. Keith did it again, delighting in how easy it was to bring Shiro pleasure, letting his nails drag across his scalp and swallowing down a moan as Shiro tipped his head back and let his mouth fall open in a soft sigh.

Suddenly it didn’t matter that Shiro’s grandma was waiting at the house for them, or that his own dick was still hanging out, or that the ground was covered in mud. All that mattered was Shiro kissing him.

Keith dropped his hand from Shiro’s hair and roughly yanked his boxers and jeans up then dropped to the ground. The sound of mud and strawberries squelching beneath his knees was nothing compared to the sound of surprise Shiro made as Keith’s clumsy hands palmed at Shiro’s dick through his jeans.

It was a long time before they made it back to the house. Longer still before Keith could look Shiro’s grandma in the face. Especially when she pulled out a fresh strawberry pie.

****

*******

Instead of quenching the thirst inside of Keith, The Strawberry Incident—as Keith had begun to privately think of it, which he did _a lot_ —had left Keith parched.

Every single thing Shiro did made Keith’s dick leap to attention. Whether it was applying his fucking strawberry chapstick—which Keith swore Shiro bought on purpose after the blowjob—to making obscenely happy noises as he drink his extra thick milkshake at Hunk’s, reminded Keith of the way he’d looked dropping to his knees and the sounds he’d made as he’d sucked Keith deeper, and the delicious feeling of being buried down his throat.

Keith didn’t think he’d even been this bad when he was a fucking teenager and he’d suddenly told his mom he developed an interest in learning how to do laundry to hide how many wet dreams he had and how many fucking hand towels he used jerking off to the photo of Shiro shirtless from the weekend they spent camping at the lake which he kept hidden beneath his mattress.

Back then, he’d been desperate and horny without a fucking clue what it might really feel like to have someone touch him, let alone Shiro.

Now he was twenty-two and apparently just as horny and desperate. The difference now was he knew exactly what it felt like to have Shiro’s hands and mouth on his body, and he wanted more. God, he wanted more. But just like that day in the strawberry field, Keith found himself once again incapable of uttering the words.

He knew exactly what he wanted, he just couldn’t fucking say it.

The incident seemed to have unlocked something in Shiro too, if the way his hands kept slipping down the back of Keith’s jeans, or the needy sounds Shiro made when he kissed him, were any indication. But every time it came close to more, every time Shiro’s big hands dipped down the curve of his ass or found their way to the zipper at the front of his jeans, something happened. Whether it was Kosmo getting jealous and nosing his way between them because he thought Shiro was petting Keith and he wanted attention instead, or his mom forgetting to knock and barging into his room with milk and cookies, or Shiro’s grandparents blaring true crime television so loudly the idea of Shiro’s hand on his dick or vice versa became unappealing.

By the second week of July, Keith felt close to snapping. It didn’t seem to matter that he couldn’t get out the words _if you don’t fuck me soon I might actually die_ because despite them both being adults, neither of them had any fucking privacy. Even if he had been able to say the words out loud, nothing would’ve been able to come from it anyway.

He’d jerked off so much his wrist hurt, and he’d had to pull out his fucking wrist brace and tell his mom he’d overused it drawing, there were no more clean hand towels left in his bathroom, and just the sight of plaid alone was enough to get Keith achingly hard so fast he was starting to think he had a Pavlovian response to plaid.

Keith knew he was reaching his breaking point when he accompanied his mom on the forty minute drive two towns over for her monthly Costco stock-up trip. Things were going fine, or as fine as they could be at a Costco on Sunday when people acted like a quarter-sized sample of cheese or half a cookie was worth causing a fucking shopping cart traffic jam, when he found himself face to face with someone’s overstuffed cart. A cart that had a case of Brawny paper towels on top. Keith had taken one look at the faceless man in plaid on the side of the package and found himself getting a fucking hard-on like he was fifteen and seeing a naked boy for the first time. 

He’d spent the rest of the trip hiding in the bathroom, pretending he’d gotten a bad sample and planning his own funeral should his stupid erection refuse to go away. 

That night Keith snuck out to Marmora Motors at a quarter past twelve with one thing in mind.

He returned home with his pockets full of condoms, a bottle of lube, and a plan.

Keith was going to have sex if it fucking killed him.

****

*******

Once the idea took hold in his mind, it was all Keith could do not to blurt it out—to drag Shiro into the bathroom while his mom was tending to the gnomes, or beg Shiro to fuck him in the back of his truck.

The only thing stopping him was his complete and utter conviction that Shiro deserved something special.

Keith felt a little silly making a big deal out of it, and it wasn’t because it’d be his first time, but because it was the first time _with Shiro_. He’d spent so long dreaming about being with him the idea of their first time being harried and rushed, or possibly interrupted by well-meaning but nosy loved ones, was unthinkable. Shiro deserved to be romanced and wooed and loved, and Keith was damned if he was gonna ruin this.

So Keith did his best. He dug out the nicest blanket his mom owned from the back of the linen closet—the oversized picnic one that was plastic on one side to keep it dry and extra soft on the other side. Then he spent two hours rummaging around in the garage until he found the picnic basket his mom used to use when he was a kid and did the only logical thing—went to Hunk. He didn’t exactly say _give me your best food to seduce Shiro_ but he hadn’t needed to either. Hunk had taken one look at him with his giant wicker picnic basket and lost look and laughed, looping an arm around Keith’s shoulder and leading him back into the kitchen. 

Hunk might not have known what the picnic was for, but he recognized a friend in need and delivered. Keith had left the diner half an hour later with his basket weighed down with sandwiches fit for a king made on freshly-baked bread, tubs of potato salad made from scratch, and generous slices of apple pie.

Everything was perfect.

Surprising Shiro with the picnic had been easy, since Keith knew exactly where to find Shiro on Fridays—hidden beneath the shade of his favorite peach tree. 

“Keith,” Shiro called, a bit of dark hair just visible through the thick branches of the massive tree. 

A second later he came into full view as he dropped down from the tree like a fucking ninja, landing in a pile of leaves with a smile and a perfectly ripe peach clasped in his prosthetic.

“You know you could climb down like a normal person,” Keith laughed.

“Normal is overrated,” Shiro laughed, strolling towards Keith and planting a quick kiss on his lips. 

“True,” Keith agreed, unable to imagine a world in which Shiro wasn’t a ridiculous show-off. At least for Keith. In front of everyone else he was a little more subdued—more restrained. He’d always been a little more wild and carefree with Keith though, something Keith treasured now more than ever. He liked knowing Shiro was most himself with Keith. He liked it a lot.

“What did you bring?” Shiro asked, blowing hair off his forehead.

“Food,” Keith blurted, shoving the picnic basket towards Shiro without preamble. The carefully practiced words he’d rehearsed on the drive over— _I wanted to do something nice for you like you deserve_ —somehow refused to come. Instead he felt tongue-tied and rendered speechless at the sight of the midday sun glinting off Shiro’s hair, mesmerized by the way his plain white shirt clung to every muscle in his body and the way his now-abandoned plaid shirt looked tied around his tiny waist. 

Equally as mesmerizing was the soft little _oh_ of pleasure that fell from Shiro’s lips as he opened the lid, and the way a faint pink appeared across the bridge of his nose. He was so easy to please it made Keith weak in the knees. Someone as perfect as Shiro shouldn’t be so fucking easy to please, and yet all it took was a smile from Keith or a string of stupid emojis in a text to make Shiro happy. He never expected a lot, just wanted Keith’s attention and time, and it made something in Keith’s chest swell within him until he was left breathless by the magnitude of his feelings for Shiro.

He didn’t just want to fuck or be fucked by him. He loved him. Every single fucking thing about him. And it made the lust about ten thousand times harder to deal with because Keith wasn’t just horny. He was horny in love.

“You brought a picnic,” Shiro observed, his flush deepening. “Is it a special occasion?”

Keith shook his head, yanking off the blanket that was thrown over his shoulder and shaking it out until it was laid flat. 

“I just wanted to do something nice.” A twinge of guilt assaulted Keith as he said the words. It wasn’t really a lie, but saying _I want to take care of you and treat you right but I’m also lowkey hoping to seduce you with romance because I’m so fucking horny for you I might lose my mind_ didn’t seem appropriate to say out loud. The bottle of lube and condom burned a hole in his pocket as Shiro dropped the picnic basket onto the edge of the blanket and moved in front of Keith.

“You’re sweet.”

Keith didn’t really think he was sweet. Not by a long shot. Shiro was the sweet one. He was just doing something small, something Shiro deserved. Well, and trying to seduce his gorgeous boyfriend which wasn’t at all altruistic. But if Shiro thought he was, well, that was nice.

“Only for you,” Keith mumbled, his cheeks heating. 

Shiro hummed, slipping one of his hands into the back of Keith’s hair. “You’re a lot of things just for me.”

Keith wanted to ask what that meant but he also really wanted to kiss Shiro, and the latter won as he surged onto his tiptoes and pressed his lips to Shiro’s. He’d clearly been sampling the fruit as he worked because his lips were sticky and tasted of peaches, and Keith nearly came in his fucking pants when Shiro’s warm, sweet tongue slipped into his mouth.

The peach that had been clasped in Shiro’s prosthetic dropped to the ground, rolling across the blanket and resting against the side of Keith’s shoe. He nearly squashed it in his haste to try and climb Shiro like a fucking tree—hands fisting in the front of Shiro’s shirt as he sucked Shiro’s bottom lip into his mouth. It earned him a salacious groan from Shiro which only spurred Keith on further.

His plans for romance and seduction were rapidly flying out the window as Keith thought about dropping to his knees or shoving the condom at Shiro and begging to be fucked. It was nearly impossible for him to think clearly when the taste of summer lingered on Shiro’s lips.

“Baby,” Shiro groaned as his hands slid down Keith’s back to settle on his ass.

Keith wasn’t above manipulation and arched his ass back, well aware that it was one of Shiro’s favorite places to touch. Shiro groaned again, his nose shoving into Keith’s cheek as he panted.

Keith opened his mouth, the words he’d been holding back for so long threatening to fall from his lips.

At least until the sound of Shiro’s stomach rumbling caught his attention. Fuck. Right, food. Keith was supposed to be acting like a good boyfriend and making sure Shiro didn’t forget to eat, which he did way too often—often working himself to the point of exhaustion and refusing to take breaks or let anyone else help him shoulder the long days of labor. 

Keith was still working on getting Shiro to agree to hire on someone else to help him out during the busiest harvest seasons. He knew the money was there, Shiro was just a stubborn fucker who tried to do everything by himself. He knew that his best bet was getting Shiro to give Lance a promotion. He was annoying as fuck, but he was also a hard worker and stronger than he looked. No matter how much Shiro insisted he could handle the entire farm by himself, Keith knew it was taking a toll on his physical health. But so far that’d been met with staunch refusal, so for now Keith was doing the only things he could, which included dropping by every day with food—Shiro would never take time for himself, but he was always eager to make time for Keith, a fact Keith shamelessly exploited daily—and pestering him relentlessly. Keith knew he’d win eventually, since the only person that was more of a stubborn asshole than Shiro was Keith, another fact he planned to use to his full advantage. But, that took time and patience.

Which meant was that no matter how horny Keith was—or how close he was to actually begging to be fucked—he needed to wait and make sure Shiro took care of himself. And if he wouldn’t do that, then Keith would do it for him—even if it tested every ounce of Keith’s self-control and led to the world’s worst case of blue balls.

“You’re hungry,” Keith forced out, taking a step away from Shiro even though it was physically painful to do so. 

“ _Keith_.”

Keith stopped the hand that was inching towards his waistband and linked his fingers with Shiro’s instead. 

“When was the last time you ate?” he asked even though he already knew from Shiro’s grandma that he’d left the house before the sun was up, which meant he’d likely not taken the time to eat.

“Baby,” Shiro whined, squeezing their joined fingers softly. It was almost enough to make Keith forget he’d asked him something. _Almost_.

“Don’t you _baby_ me, mister. I bet you forgot to eat breakfast today too, didn’t you?” he asked, purposely staring at a spot over Shiro’s shoulder and not at his face because he could tell from the pitch of Shiro’s voice that he was starting to pout, and Keith might’ve been strong but not _that_ strong.

“I’m fine,” Shiro tried, which was not an answer at all. “I ate peaches.”

“Ha, I knew it,” Keith grumbled, dropping down onto the blanket and crossing his legs beneath him as he tried very hard not to picture Shiro eating a peach. Except, telling himself not to think about it simply made him think about it more, and an image of Shiro’s lips curling around the plump flesh of a peach sprung to mind—his tongue darting out to lap at the juice that might’ve leaked from the fruit coating his mouth and dripping down his chin as his perfectly white teeth sunk into the soft flesh of the fruit. Fuck. 

Keith shook his head, desperately trying to rid himself of the mental image of Shiro’s tongue swiping up the puckered inside of the peach. 

“Sit down,” he instructed, voice cracking as he patted the spot beside him.

Shiro immediately did as he was told, dropping down onto the blanket beside Keith and stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“Happy?” Shiro laughed, leaning back on his elbows and fixing his gaze on Keith. He tipped his head back to stare up through the leaves of the peach tree, his bangs blowing in the wind as his eyes fluttered shut. He looked completely relaxed and something tight inside of Keith’s chest relaxed. 

“Very,” Keith said, biting back a smile as he started to carefully unpack the contents of the picnic basket, spreading it out between them like a feast. This was good. He could ignore his own arousal for half an hour. He’d done well with the food selection, Shiro was taking a break, and everything was going to go exactly as planned now. “You’re a good boy.”

He wasn’t even sure what had compelled him to say it. It was a bit of a joke really, meant to tease him. 

What wasn’t a joke was the way Shiro responded—the noticeable shift in his breathing pattern, and the little hitching sound he made. Keith’s mouth fell open as his eyes flew up to Shiro’s, the little plastic to-go box with a slice of apple pie falling to the blanket with a thud and making the pie filling splatter out inside of the container. 

Shiro’s fingers were fisted in the blanket, the rise and fall of his chest stilted and there was a visible flush spreading across his cheeks and down the side of his neck.

He liked that.

Oh.

_Oh._

Suddenly Keith’s well-thought-out plans for romance and the uneaten picnic between them didn’t matter. All that mattered was Shiro and touching him, kissing him, and finding out how far that blush traveled.

Shiro was clearly trying to steady his own breathing, his fingers still clenched in the blanket and his eyes wide as he stared at Keith waiting. Waiting for Keith to make the next move.

Whatever happened next, the ball was in Keith’s court. It was almost funny because Keith had spent the last few weeks trying to ignore the ache of arousal constantly simmering inside of him. Ignoring his own desires was easy enough. But denying Shiro anything was absolutely unthinkable.

There was obvious arousal blazing in Shiro’s eyes, and the desire he was clearly trying so hard to contain was simmering just below the surface.

Decision made, Keith pushed all the food off to the side and off the blanket as he inched towards Shiro. As he moved, the blanket bunched up and Keith was hyper aware of the sound of leaves crunching beneath his knees as he scooted forward. The only thing louder than the leaves was the sound of his own racing heart thudding in his ears.

“Do you like being good for me, Shiro?” Keith asked softly. Somehow it was both the easiest and hardest question he’d ever asked.

Shiro made the same noise as before, almost as if his breath was stuck in the back of his throat. Instead of answering with words, Shiro nodded his head in agreement, biting down so hard on his bottom lip Keith was afraid he might break the skin and digging his fingers into the blanket.

“You are you know—good. You always are,” Keith whispered.

“I want to be good for _you_ ,” Shiro confessed, his voice cracking on the last few words. He unfisted his hand from the blanket and let his fingertips dance across the cotton surface between them until his palm was upturned near Keith’s hand.

“You always are,” Keith said.

“Yeah?” he uttered. 

“Of course,” Keith huffed out, unsure if Shiro really didn’t know how good he was for Keith or just wanted to hear him say it. Either way, the urge to tell Shiro just how good he was crackled beneath the surface—words ready to claw their way out of his throat.

Keith swallowed them down for now, not trusting himself to speak as he reached his right hand out and caressed his fingers across the palm of Shiro’s hand. He traced it down the side of Shiro’s thumb and across the small scar in the middle he’d got when he fell out of tree when he was ten. Then he did it again and again, because touching Shiro soothed the frazzled, wild part of Keith’s soul that didn’t know how to be still. 

Under his ministrations Shiro’s fingers twitched, and he inhaled sharply but didn’t move, letting Keith take his time mapping the lines of his hand as if he didn’t already have them memorized.

It would be so easy to say what he wanted right now. The opening was there, and Shiro was clearly willing.

Keith could open his mouth and utter the words he’d been holding onto for weeks, for months—fuck, for years. He’d wanted Shiro since he knew what it was to want to touch and be touched by someone. There had never been anyone else, and he knew there never would be.

But suddenly, faced with the one thing he wanted more than anything else, Keith was scared.

He wanted to laugh, or cry. Everything he wanted was right in front of him. He had it—he had Shiro—so why the fuck was his hand trembling as he linked his fingers with Shiro’s?

“Oh,” Shiro breathed, bringing his metal fingers up to push back the hair falling into Keith’s eyes. “I’ll be good for you. So good. Give you anything you anything you want. Just...I gotta know what you want. What do you want, baby?”

“You,” Keith divulged. It was the least surprising confession ever, but somehow it still made Keith feel stripped bare to say it. 

“Yeah, I kind of guessed that,” Shiro laughed, eyes so soft as he looked at Keith it made his stomach jump into his throat. “But what do you _want_?”

“Fuck, Shiro.”

“ _Fuck, Shiro_ like you wanna fuck me?” he asked, rising up onto his elbows and leaning over Keith. The noise Keith made to that was nothing short of inhuman. “You wanna fuck me, baby?”

“Yeah,” Keith whispered, unable to deny how alluring that idea was. It was Shiro. Of course he wanted to fuck him. So much.

“But—” Shiro prompted, throwing a leg over Keith so that he was straddling him. He took their joined hands and rested them over Keith’s head, then smiled.

“How do you know there’s a but?” Keith mumbled, moving his free hand to cover his face.

“Because I know you,” Shiro said, bending down and pressing a chaste kiss to the back of each of Keith’s knuckles.

“I won’t make you tell me but...I’d like it if you did.”

Even with his hand over his face, Keith squeezed his eyes shut. He felt like a fucking idiot for being nervous. This was Shiro, the boy who’d built blanket forts with him at five, played astronaut with him when they were ten, held his hand on the first day of middle school, and once burped out the alphabet. It was just Shiro. His best friend.

And yet.

“You wanna tell me? Or maybe you want me to guess?” Shiro whispered, his breath warm across the back of Keith’s hand.

“You could guess,” Keith croaked, scissoring open his fingers to peek at Shiro.

“Hey, beautiful,” Shiro said, squeezing his hand.

Keith felt his entire body flush, and the urge to yank his other hand free and hide his face forever was strong. The only thing stronger was the urge to let Shiro see.

“Hi.”

“So...fucking.”

“Yes.”

“You want me to get down on my knees and suck you again? Want your dick in my mouth, baby?” he asked, as easily as if he were asking Keith if he wanted something from the fucking grocery store. It shouldn’t be possible that someone so sweet and earnest who blushed at the simplest compliments from Keith could also have a mouth like that.

“No, that’s not it. You want something else,” he continued, saving Keith from answering.

“You want me to jerk you off? Want my hands on your dick?”

Keith made another embarrassing noise, the idea undeniably erotic. But it wasn’t what he wanted. Not right now anyway.

“Later,” he whispered.

“Later,” Shiro repeated. “Okay. But there’s something you want right now?”

“Yes,” Keith confirmed, pulling his fingers off his face and dropping his hand onto the blanket.

“You wanna give me a hint, baby?” Shiro asked, sitting back on his heels which left his ass settled directly on top of Keith’s rock hard dick. Then the fucker gave Keith an innocent smile. 

“Nghh,” was all that came out of Keith’s mouth.

Shiro threw his head back and laughed, and even that just made Keith harder. He loved the melodic sound of Shiro’s laughter, loved how playful he was and the way his inhibitions started to fall away when he got intimate with Keith. 

He also really, really loved that Shiro was a bit of a tease. Loved it and hated it, because right now he was teasing Keith and Keith was getting closer and closer to desperation. Especially with Shiro’s plump ass wiggling above him, sending little shock waves of pleasure down Keith’s spine.

“Fuck you,” Keith grumbled with no bite.

“Think we ruled that out for today,” Shiro replied cheekily.

Keith shot his free hand out to pinch Shiro on the ass. All that did was earn him another smile though. 

“Unless, maybe...maybe,” he hummed.

“Maybe what?” Keith whispered.

“Maybe you want me to fuck _you_ ,” he said, shifting his body so that his knees were digging into the blanket on either side of Keith’s hips and his body hovered just above Keiths. His bangs were falling over his eyes, dangling into the space between them and his pretty lips were so close to Keiths.

Keith opened his mouth to say _yes, that's what I want_ but what came out was something else entirely—a sound he’d never made in front of another living soul, not even Shiro.

Shiro’s eyes widened, pink blossoming on his cheeks as he lowered his face until it was just an inch or so from Keith’s. He didn’t kiss him though, instead he _talked_.

“That what you want, sweetheart? You want me to lay you out on this blanket and strip you bare? Want me to touch every inch of your body with my hands and mouth, touching and teasing until you’re aching for me?”

“ _Shiro_.”

“Yeah, baby. That’s my name. You want me to make you scream it?”

“Jesus Christ,” Keith groaned. 

Shiro was going to kill him. There was no possible outcome in this scenario other than Keith dying from sexual frustration or sexual satisfaction.

“Oh shit,” Shiro whispered, his entire demeanor suddenly shifting. 

“What?” Keith asked, afraid Shiro had changed his mind. Not that it seemed probable, but brains were assholes like that.

“I don’t have a condom, or lube. I, uh...wasn’t exactly expecting this.”

“Shiro, it’s okay,” Keith tried, but Shiro wasn’t listening. It was clear his thoughts were already spiraling. 

“No, it’s not okay. I only want to make you feel good, baby. I won’t hurt you trying to do this without. We need—”

“Shiro, it’s okay” Keith interrupted, firmer this time. Shiro clamped his mouth shut and waited for Keith, who blanched under the weight of Shiro’s gaze as he waited to see what Keith wanted to say. “I uh...oh fuck. I have stuff.”

Then, with all the grace of a drunk elephant, he sent Shiro tumbling into the blanket in his haste to get the stuff from his pocket and show him. Unable to think of a graceful way out of the situation he did the only thing he could, curling his fingers around the little bottle of lube and condom in his pocket and then yanking them out and shoving them into Shiro’s chest.

“See,” he mumbled, hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Stuff.”

Awareness seemed to dawn on Shiro, whose surprise turned to something else, something that looked very much like pleasure if the curl of his lips was any indication. 

He wrapped his fingers around Keith’s, plucking the stuff from his hand. “Did you _plan_ this?”

“Maybe,” Keith admitted, positive he must look like an overripe tomato by now.

He waited for Shiro to laugh at the cheesiness of trying to woo him with a picnic, or joke about being as prepared as a boy scout. He did neither.

When Shiro spoke his voice was lower than Keith had ever heard. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

Keith squeaked. There was no other word for the sound that came out of his mouth. And he couldn’t even be embarrassed about it. Not when Shiro was looking at him like _that_.

“That’s what you want, right? You want me to take care of you? Show you that you’re mine? You want me to slip into your body and make you feel better than anyone else has ever made you feel?”

“There’s never been anyone else,” Keith whispered, the confession falling from his mouth automatically. He licked his lips, staring at Shiro’s chin instead of his eyes. “To make me feel good...or bad...or anything. It’s, um...it’s just. Yeah.”

“Baby.”

Keith inhaled slowly, aware he was about to ramble but somehow unable to make his mouth stop. “It’s not a big deal or anything though. So I’m a twenty-two year old virgin, it’s not that pathetic and maybe I won’t be very good at this but I want to, and if that changes things or maybe it's not as good for you I’m sorry but—”

“Keith,” Shiro said softly. He moved his fingers to Keith’s chin, urging him to look up. “Nothing about you is less than in any way. You’re amazing in every way.”

Keith’s heart rattled against his chest. Shiro always did that, said things to Keith as if he were the most precious person to ever exist when it was so obvious that it was Shiro who was spectacular.

“You know you’re biased,” he snorted.

“Maybe,” Shiro agreed. He rubbed his thumb along the bottom of Keith’s chin. “All I know is that I love you. Every single thing about you.”

“So you, uh...you don’t care that I’m a virgin?” he asked. It felt weird to say it out loud. He’d thought the words so many times by this point he’d lost count, but he’d never said them out loud.

“Shit, baby. You think I don’t care?”

Keith’s stomach dropped, the weird irrational insecurity nagging at the back of his brain flaring to life. Fuck.

“No, not like that,” Shiro offered immediately, as if he were reading Keith’s mind. “I just...if you weren’t a virgin that would be okay too. It wouldn’t be less special being with you even if you’d been with one or ten people, because you’re you and I love you. But fuck, baby. Knowing I’m the only one who gets to touch you? That I get to be the first person to push you back and spread you open—to see you come undone. It’s so fucking hot.”

“Oh,” Keith breathed. Somehow in all his excitement and anticipation and fear he’d never once stopped to think about it like that. He’d never thought about it maybe being exciting for both of them in different ways.

“God, baby, you have no idea the things I want to do to you.”

“Tell me,” Keith choked out.

Shiro’s entire body stilled. “Oh, baby.”

“Tell me,” Keith repeated, desperate to hear the words spoken out loud. 

Shiro’s eyes lit up with desire as he crawled back on top of Keith and straddled his hips. 

He looked good there—face hovering above Keith and the weight of his lower body pressing Keith back into the blanket. Keith couldn’t fathom how he was going to survive being in this same position when they were naked if just having a fully-dressed Shiro on top of him made his dick throb with desire. He was so hard it almost hurt, and the only thing stopping him from rutting up against Shiro or begging to be touched was his desire to hear Shiro. 

When he did speak, Keith was not disappointed. 

“I want to worship you, baby. All of you. I want to graze my lips across every inch of your bare skin and watch you whimper and moan until I know exactly where you like to be touched.” He paused, licking his lips and he was so close Keith could almost taste him. “I want to watch my fingers slide down the curve of your pretty ass and spread your cheeks open before a part of me slips inside of your body.

Keith bit back a moan, his entire body trembling as Shiro’s words washed over him. It was crazy because it wasn’t as if he hadn't known that Shiro loved him— hadn't already suspected their desires would be equally matched—but to hear it spoken so plainly made Keith’s heart race. 

“Look at you. You’re so eager,” Shiro praise. “And I’ll be so gentle with you, take it slow and make you feel so good, sweetheart. I want to hear the sounds you make as I open you up for me. I’ll be so slow, so careful...stretching you until you’re begging me for more, until you don’t know how you survived without my cock inside of you. Would you beg me for it, baby?”

Keith nearly bit a fucking hole in his tongue. Shiro having a mouth like this should be fucking illegal. Keith was going to lose his goddamn fucking mind. 

“Yes,” he whimpered, unsurprised at the shakiness in his voice. “For you.”

Shiro spread his knees wider, until his dick was pressed against Keith’s, then he rolled his hips so they dragged against each other, giving Keith the first decent bit of friction since he’d got hard. Pleasure shot up Keith's spine as he groaned loudly, earning him a smile from Shiro. It was the same pleased, almost cocky smile he’d had that night they went ice skating. The smile Shiro got when he got exactly what he wanted. 

It was so sexy Keith was surprised he didn’t just pass out from asphyxiation right then and there. The idea that making Keith feel good gave Shiro so much pleasure was too much for Keith’s brain to compute. Especially with what felt like his body’s entire blood supply currently residing in his dick. 

“God, you moan pretty for me, baby. Do it again.”

Shiro’s words pierced through his heart and went straight to his dick. 

Somehow in all of his fantasies of what it might be like to be with Shiro, he never imagined that Shiro might be like _this_ —that the blushing boy who could barely flirt might be good at dirty talk. 

It seemed unthinkable and at the same time, if he really stopped to think about it, it made so much sense. Shiro was humble and selfless sure, but there was a part of him that was cocky and playful. It was just that it was a part of him that he didn’t show most people. But Keith wasn’t most people. Shiro felt safe with Keith, safe to let out all the things he wanted and the parts of himself he didn’t show to other people. And this side of Shiro was something raw and filthy and intimate that only Keith got to see.

 _Only Keith_.

Shiro rolled his hips again and the moan that was ripped from Keith’s throat was guttural and deep.

“That’s it, just like that,” Shiro crooned, reaching for Keith’s other hand and twining his fingers in Keith’s then pushing their newly-joined hand above Keith’s head to rest beside the other one already there. “There’s no one around for miles. No one else can hear you but me.”

“Shiro,” Keith gasped, shuddering when Shiro increased the pressure of his movements against Keith’s dick.

“What, sweetheart?”

“Stop fucking teasing and do something,” Keith bit out, afraid he might come in his pants if Shiro didn’t get the fuck on with it.

A low laugh rumbled out of Shiro’s chest and Keith couldn’t even be annoyed because he looked so damn happy. “Not teasing.”

“Feels like teasing,” Keith exhaled.

“Oh,” Shiro said softly, releasing Keith’s hands. Then he stopped rutting against Keith and rolled off him. Keith wrinkled his nose in disappointment, opening his mouth to tell Shiro that stopping wasn’t what he meant when Shiro reached behind him to grab a handful of t-shirt at his back and roughly yank it off in one go. The movement made his already messy hair even more disheveled—little bits of white floof sticking up in all directions.

It was fucking adorable.

Then he moved his hands to his jeans, pausing to look up at Keith who had basically forgotten how to breathe. When his long fingers began to slowly pop the buttons out of denim holes, Keith definitely stopped breathing. When he rose onto his knees and shoved them down his hips to reveal his massive dick and strong thighs, Keith very nearly passed out.

It wasn’t as if Keith hadn’t seen Shiro’s dick before, but that was back when they were teenagers and Shiro changed during sleepovers. Those were stolen glances that left Keith full of guilt and shame for perving on his best friend. This was something else entirely.

This was Shiro stripping himself bare for Keith.

Somehow Shiro managed to kick off his boots and finish removing his pants without falling off the blanket or looking awkward, a feat Keith would’ve been more impressed by if he wasn’t so distracted staring at the muscles rippling through Shiro’s thighs or the sheer girth of Shiro’s dick. He even pulled off his socks so that he was left kneeling before Keith completely naked. There was something almost shy about the way he folded his hands in his lap and his wide eyes turned on Keith, peering at him from beneath the hair falling into his eyes. 

The rise and fall of his chest was rapid, and there was a bit of precome leaking out of the tip of his dick, but he remained still.

He was giving Keith some of the power, making himself vulnerable first.

“You’re so beautiful,” Keith whispered, crawling across the blanket until he was kneeling before Shiro too, albeit still fully dressed. Something which he definitely needed to rectify.

“Can I?” Shiro asked, sneaking a hand out to toy with the hem of Keith’s shirt. The metal of his fingers was cool, even through the thin cotton, and his stomach quivered at the promise of a not-so-innocent touch.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Anything, Shiro. You can do anything.”

“What if I want everything?” Shiro asked, twisting the t-shirt around his fingers and tugging so that Keith fell forward into Shiro’s lap.

“Everything,” Keith choked. “Take everything.”

Shiro didn’t need to be told twice, crashing their lips together. He pulled out of the kiss only long enough to tug Keith’s shirt off his head and throw it onto the grass before reattaching his lips to Keith’s.

There was nothing bashful or tentative about the kiss, just the coming together of two people who knew what was about to happen. Keith matched Shiro sound for sound, panting and groaning as Shiro dragged his hands down Keith’s sides and settled them at his waistband. Keith almost expected him to ask for permission again but he didn’t, undoing the belt with ease and yanking it out in one rough go. 

“Fuck,” Keith groaned as Shiro tossed that onto the grass too before quickly moving his hands back to the zipper. 

Keith wasn’t sure what magic skill Shiro possessed hut he somehow managed to he Keith’s pants and boxers off without letting Keith out of his lap. 

Once he was naked too, it was all Keith could do not to come the second his body was flush against Shiro’s. So much warm skin for him to touch and grab, Shiro’s body flushed pink and so warm as the summer breeze drifted across his bare skin. 

“Gonna make you feel so good,” Shiro promised, pushing Keith down onto his back. 

Keith couldn’t make a coherent response to that if he tried so he settled for spreading his legs and arching his back, hoping Shiro got the message. Unfortunately, when Shiro lowered his mouth down it wasn’t anywhere near Keith’s dick, but instead the inside of his left elbow. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, lifting his head to watch as Shiro trailed soft little kisses along the inside of his forearm. 

“Kissing you.”

“My mouth is up here and my dick is down there,” Keith teased, wiggling his hips as if to prove his point. 

“Patience, baby.”

“Patience is—nghh,” Keith grunted, words displacing into something unintelligible as Shiro dragged his tongue along the delicate skin of his wrist then sucked hard on the pulse point. Keith had never considered his wrist an erogenous zone, but watching Shiro mouth at it—tiny little grunts of pleasure as he spread Keith’s fingers apart and nibbled at the skin—Keith was undone. 

Shiro shifted his body to get a better angle, inching his way higher and bringing the side of his very naked thigh against Keith’s very hard dick. That was all it took, one little bit of friction and Keith was helpless to curb the pleasure building. He slammed his eyes shut and grit his teeth but was helpless to stop his orgasm from tipping him over the edge.

The suction at his wrist stopped and by the time Keith had come back to himself there was nothing but the sound of his labored breathing and the wind rustling through the trees. Even with his eyes still squeezed shut, Keith was cognizant of Shiro staring at him, but he was too embarrassed to do anything besides lay very still and wish for death to take him. 

It seemed like a funny bit of fate that after spending a lifetime desperate to get fucked he’d go and well—fuck it up. And not in a fun way.

“ _Keith_ ,” Shiro tried, voice barely above a whisper.

“Keith is having an out-of-body experience and would very much like to not exist,” Keith announced, throwing both his hands over his face in the hope that Shiro wouldn’t notice his jaw quivering. It was bad enough that he’d prematurely ejaculated before they even really got started, he was not going to fucking cry about it. 

Besides it wasn’t like he’d gone and ruined his first time with Shiro or anything. Just thinking about it made his eyes water and he screwed them shut.

“Oh, Keith,” Shiro whispered, voice far more gentle than Keith felt he deserved. There went hoping Shiro couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry,” Keith mumbled.

“That was so hot,” Shiro said, voice low as he dragged his fingers through the mess in Keith’s stomach. “You want me so much you came just like that. Jesus Christ, baby.”

Keith made a wide enough gap in his fingers so that he could peek at Shiro. He didn’t think coming early was usually considered hot but Shiro certainly looked turned on still. 

“So hot,” Shiro repeated, making sure Keith was watching him before he lifted his hand and tasted Keith’s release on his own fingers. As if that wasn’t obscene enough, he proceeded to moan as he sucked, letting his eyelids flutter shut as he practically deep throated his fingers to get them clean.

Keith was positive then that if he hadn’t just come, he would’ve done so untouched at the sight of Shiro sucking on his own fingers like that. It reminded Keith of the way Shiro hollowed his cheeks when he ate a popsicle. Even the happy little slurping noises were the same, and Keith knew he wasn’t going to survive the family barbecue next weekend with that knowledge. Not with the king size box of bomb pops Keith’s mom already had in the extra deep freezer in the garage.

“But I came,” he said, unable to stop himself. His hands were still half covering his face and he didn’t dare remove them. “I ruined things.”

“Who said you were only coming once?” Shiro asked, eyes so earnest Keith’s heart flipped and his spent dick twitched with interest. 

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, Shiro.”

“I’m gonna _love_ you.”

“Oh,” Keith breathed, his hands falling to the sides. His embarrassment rapidly dwindled in the face of the obvious adoration shining in Shiro’s eyes. 

Shiro had never been good at hiding things—well, aside from apparently being in love with Keith for the last few years. But that didn’t count, since Keith had chalked that up to them both being massive fucking idiots. But otherwise he was shit at hiding his feelings, and he definitely didn’t lie. Which meant he genuinely thought Keith shooting off his load because of Shiro’s thigh was actually hot.

“Just relax, baby. Let me treat you so good,” Shiro said sweetly, big hands returning to Keith’s body and settling on his thighs as he spread them wider to make room for himself.

“You already are. You’re so good to me,” Keith said, spreading his legs wider to make room for Shiro to settle in between them.

Shiro stilled, big hands on Keith’s thighs as he lifted his gaze. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Keith echoed. “You’re a good boy.”

Shiro’s fingers dug into the flesh of Keith’s thigh as a breathy little whimper fell from his lips. It was a lot for Keith to handle. Even more so when Shiro closed his eyes, bowing his head and nuzzling his face into the inside of Keith’s thigh, grazing his nails over the dark hair that dusted calves as he pressed a sloppy open-mouthed kiss to the inside of his leg.

Shiro’s gaze lowered as he nuzzled his cheek against Keith’s trembling thigh, humming softly.

“Relax, baby.”

Keith snorted. _Relax_. There was no way to relax when Shiro’s warm breath was tickling the hair on his thigh and the hands he knew so well were inching higher and higher. There was no way to relax at the sight of Shiro on his knees between Keith’s legs about to fuck him.

“I have an idea. Can I?” Shiro asked, hands moving to grip Keith’s hips.

“Yes,” he answered, without having a fucking clue what exactly Shiro had in mind. Details didn’t matter. Keith trusted Shiro.

“Roll over baby, it’s easier this way,” Shiro instructed, giving Keith’s hips a gentle little squeeze before urging him to turn over.

Keith obeyed eagerly, rolling over onto his elbows and knees. Somehow it felt even more revealing to have his bare ass up in the air, apparently even more than having his dick out. 

“So pretty,” Shiro breathed, laying the palms of his hands on Keith’s lower back and dragging them down the swell of Keith’s ass. He left his hands there, giving each of the cheeks a gentle little squeeze before digging his fingers in a little deeper and pulling them apart—a gust of warm summer air caressing his hole.

Keith inhaled sharply as he waited for Shiro to do something else, something like grab the lube to fuck him or well—anything. He didn’t. Instead he kept Keith’s ass cheeks spread, presumably just staring at Keith’s hole. The intensity of that focus made Keith shiver. Shiro was staring at a place in Keith’s body that no one else had ever seen. Well, except his parents, which was a thought he absolutely refused to acknowledge right now.

“Relax,” Shiro whispered, tugging his cheeks apart just a little more so that Keith’s entrance was even more exposed. It made him do the opposite of relax as he thought about Shiro’s eyes boring into the most private area on his entire body. 

Recognizing that he was not relaxing, Keith dropped his forehead down onto the blanket and tried to do as Shiro had instructed—tried to slow the erratic beating of his racing heart, or regulate his breathing. It didn’t work. It was impossible to relax when all he could do was think about Shiro’s massive dick that was apparently about to be inside of him. Well, once Shiro stopped staring and got on with the lube and the fingering bit. But soon.

Soon he wasn’t going to be a virgin any more. He was going to know what it felt like to have Shiro inside of him.

“Baby you’re not relaxing,” Shiro whispered, releasing Keith’s ass and leaning over him to press a kiss to the base of Keith’s spine.

“Can’t,” Keith mumbled into the blanket. “Want you to fuck me.”

“Oh, I am. I’m gonna fuck you so good baby,” Shiro whispered against the curve of his spine as he peppered kisses up Keith’s back. “Gonna slide my cock into you and fuck you so slow and deep you feel me _everywhere_. I’m going to fuck you so good your toes curl with pleasure and all you can do is grunt and whimper because nothing has ever felt as good as being filled by me. But I can’t do that unless you relax, baby.”

Keith huffed out a laugh. There wasn’t a chance in hell he could relax with a promise like that. 

“Guess I’ll have to just distract you so you stop overthinking,” Shiro said.

Before Keith could ask Shiro what he had in mind, Shiro showed him. 

The mouth in between his shoulder blades disappeared and then Shiro’s big hands were back on his ass, spreading it wide. Keith couldn’t contain his sound of surprise, unsure how long Shiro planned on just staring when something wet and warm slid across the delicate skin. Something warm and wet that was definitely not a lube covered finger but a tongue. 

Shiro’s tongue was on his ass.

Keith whimpered, embarrassment flooding his body as he thrust his ass back towards Shiro hoping for more. Shiro hummed his approval at the wanton display of need, spreading Keith wide open as he dragged his tongue from the spot at the base of Keith’s balls and up—his nose wedged into the crease of Keith’s ass as he lapped at his entrance. 

It was obscene. There was no other word for it. Keith was on his hands and knees staring at a pile of fallen peaches in the grass while Shiro devoured his ass. Because fuck, was he devouring it. There were no shy sweeps of the tongue or hesitance as Shiro ate him out. There were only the heady sounds of pleasure Shiro kept making as his tongue roamed over and over the furrowed skin of Keith’s hole like it was the best thing Shiro had ever tasted.

Breathing became difficult as Keith gasped for breath, his hands digging into the blanket. Shiro continued to lick, his spit dripping down Keith’s ass and trickling down the inside of his thigh. Shiro ate ass like he ate peaches—messily.

Over and over Shiro’s tongue swiped, little nips to his ass cheeks and purposeful movements of Shiro’s tongue. Keith’s head spun with pleasure, his dick definitely hard and dripping between his legs as Shiro dove back in. 

Keith completely gave up trying to be quiet when Shiro’s tongue slipped past the tight ring of muscle and _into_ his ass. He slammed his fist into the ground, rucking up the blanket as a sound that was nothing short of primal was ripped from his throat. 

Shiro withdrew his tongue, pressing a chaste little kiss to Keith’s asshole before digging his fingers into the cheeks and hefting Keith’s ass even higher into the air. Then his tongue was back, fucking in and out of Keith in short little jabs that made Keith see fucking stars. He was glad they were in the middle of nowhere, because Keith knew he was being loud and he couldn’t fucking control himself if he tried. Shiro kept on going, probing his tongue deeper inside of him in wet, sloppy movements, and Keith could do nothing but whine and writhe—utterly ruined by Shiro’s mouth. The louder Keith got, the more voraciously Shiro thrust and licked. The tipping point for Keith was Shiro literally sucking on his hole, making the skin flutter and sending ricochets of pleasure down Keith’s spine. He dug his fingers into the ground, uncaring that the blanket had shifted and his nails were digging into the fucking earth. It seemed fitting to watching his fingers unhinge the grass and see the tender earth beneath it clinging to his fingers and caking under his nails.

He was vaguely aware of Shiro murmuring something, but the words felt like they were spoken in an alien dialect, and the only language Keith understood in that moment was something raw and visceral. His body was on fire, desire rushing from his every pore as the scent of earth and fallen peaches—something heady and sickeningly sweet that clung to his nose, thick and syrupy as honey.

Again Shiro spoke but Keith was helpless to respond. It was so much more than he could have anticipated. It wasn’t just physical pleasure, it was something deeper—more carnal. 

He didn’t think it was possible for anything in the world to feel better.

Then something else warm and wet slid across his entrance and Keith very nearly passed out.

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” Shiro crooned, kissing the base of Keith’s spin as the lubed-up finger easily slipped into Keith’s body. Easier than Keith might’ve expected, but he supposed having Shiro’s tongue there had readied him in more ways than one.

If having a tongue in his ass had felt good, it was nothing compared to Shiro’s finger. Which was wild, since Keith had shoved his own fingers up his ass so many times he’d lost count, but the angle was never quite right and he’d always fantasized about Shiro anyway. That, and Keith’s own fingers were always cold where the metal of Shiro’s prosthetic fingers was exceptionally warm from the midday heat—warm, and his prosthetic fingers were substantially thicker than Keith’s fingers.

It was absolutely nothing like doing it himself.

“Good?” Shiro asked, as if he expected Keith to be able to respond like a normal human being with a finger buried in his ass.

Answering with words was definitely not within Keith’s realm of possibilities, so he settled for dropping his forehead onto the blanket and thrusting his ass up into the air as high as possible. Any previous embarrassment at how wanton he was acting was long gone. There was no point in pretending he wasn’t fucking _aching_ to be fucked now as he wiggled his ass and whimpered.

Shiro cursed—something unintelligible and low—as he slipped another finger in, sending Keith’s world spinning. It was just two fingers, but it was also _Shiro’s_ fingers stretching him wide, and that made everything so much fucking better.

Desire coursed through Keith as he widened his knees, desperately trying to get Shiro’s fingers inside of him even deeper.

“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Shiro praised.

Keith whined again, shoving his face into the blanket and holding his breath. Shiro complimenting him always did something funny to Keith’s brain, turning him into a pile of mush. It didn’t make it any easier that Shiro liked to compliment him a lot. Somehow, that only made Keith even more flustered. It was hard to believe that the most beautiful man in the universe and his best friend—the person he trusted and adored more than life itself—liked so many things about Keith.

“So pretty,” Shiro repeated, well aware of the way Keith usually responded to that the fucking tease.

Summoning all of his self-composure—which was very fucking little—Keith rose onto his elbows and lifted his head to peer at Shiro over his shoulder. The fingers slipping in and out of his body paused when Shiro realized Keith was watching.

Keith kept his gaze focused, delighting in the way Shiro’s cheeks went pink. Or even pinker, anyway. He was already sort of splotchy and flushed, and it looked so good on him. It was reassuring to see that even like this, Shiro flushed when the tables were turned. 

There was a noticeable sheen of sweat on his face, his lips were swollen, and long bits of hair stuck to his forehead. He was a fucking mess. A mess because of Keith. Even though Keith was the one about to be fucked, he felt powerful realizing he was the only one who got to see Shiro like this—the only one Shiro trusted implicitly. 

“Come on, big boy, make me feel good,” Keith whispered, surprised at his ability to form a coherent sentence. 

The fingers in Keith’s ass twitched, and Keith resisted the urge to fall back into the pleasure zone. If he was going down, he was taking Shiro with him.

“You make me feel so good, Shiro. Only you.” Shiro inhaled sharply through his nose, and Keith knew he was on the right track. Ignoring the way his voice quivered as much as his body, Keith continued on. “You’re so good for me.”

“Yeah,” Shiro breathed, his breath ghosting across Keith’s back. “So good for you. Gonna be so good for you.”

“I want...I _need_ more. Please,” Keith begged, arms beginning to tremble. There was no way he was going to last. It didn’t matter that he’d already come once, he felt close to snapping already, and Shiro’s dick hadn’t even gotten close to his ass.

“Okay, yeah. Okay,” Shiro said, withdrawing his fingers from Keith’s ass.

The loss was instantaneous, and Keith bit back the noise of disappointment trying to claw its way out of his throat as Shiro ripped open the condom packet and started to roll it down his dick. Keith’s tenuous grasp on coherence was rapidly slipping at the sight of Shiro’s big hand on the base of his dick as he coated himself in extra lube.

“Ready?” Shiro asked, situated behind Keith once more. His right hand was gripping Keith’s hip and his left was on his dick, lining it up. Lining it up to push inside of Keith’s body.

“Yes.”

There was only a brief pause and then the tip of Shiro’s dick was pressing at his entrance. For one wild moment Keith panicked, afraid it wouldn’t fit, then the cockhead slipped through the ring of muscle and Keith did the only thing possible in that situation—he screamed.

“Oh god, baby, are you—”

“More,” Keith grunted out, clawing at the ground and trying to suck in enough air that he didn’t asphyxiate. 

“Are you sure?” Shiro asked, worry evident in his voice. Keith loved how much Shiro wanted to take care of him, but Keith didn’t want to be coddled, he wanted to be fucked. 

“Show me how good you are for me, Shiro. You know you’re the only one I want, so show me how good you can make me feel.”

Shiro didn’t ask again, instead slowly inching his dick into Keith. It was a strange sensation to feel his body taking something in, but bit by bit Shiro continued to press inside until his hips were flush against Keith’s ass and Shiro’s chest was resting against his back—his hands on either side of Keith’s head.

“Fuck,” Shiro breathed, breath warm across the back of Keith’s neck.

 _Fuck_ , Keith mentally echoed—fuck. 

Shiro was inside of him. Shiro’s dick was actually inside of him, and it was a goddamn reckoning. He was so fucking full he could barely breathe, caged in on all sides by Shiro, whose heart was beating so strong he could feel it thudding against his back where their naked bodies were smashed together. 

Shiro, whose nose was shoved into the back of Keith’s neck as he made the neediest sounds he’d ever heard. 

Shiro was warmer than summer and sweeter than the scent of peach blossoms, and Keith loved him so fucking much. 

A symphony of desire was building in Keith as Shiro played his body like a fine-tuned instrument—words of adoration were murmured against his skin as Shiro pulled back slowly then thrust in again. Keith keened, nails digging into the dirt as the pleasure built. Shiro’s movements were slow and methodical, his skin slapping against Keith’s with every thrust, and Keith was helpless to stop the crescendo building. 

The sultry scent of sex hung in the air, their sighs of pleasure and half-bitten-off moans carried away on a summer breeze and Keith was lost.

A shudder wracked his body as Shiro picked up the pace, settling into a rhythm. 

“I love you,” Shiro gasped, fingers clenched in the blanket as he rocked into Keith’s body. 

It was ridiculous that Keith couldn’t seem to say the words back. He’d told Shiro so many since they’d got together, but something in that moment felt different. 

He’d been in love with Shiro half his life, and now they were as close as two people could physically get, and it was so fucking much he felt like he might implode. 

“I’m yours,” Keith sobbed.

And he was. Fuck he was. 

“Mine,” Shiro echoed, his voice surprisingly shaky. He moved his hands to cover Keith’s, slipping his fingers in between Keith’s. “Mine.” 

He’d been Shiro’s since the day he met—since he was four years old and Shiro had asked him to play space explorers beneath the slide. He’d been Shiro’s since they were teenagers back when Shiro was all gangly and awkward with braces and his Backstreet Boy haircut. He’d been Shiro’s even when he was gone, keeping Shiro in his heart even when they had been apart. 

He was Shiro’s best friend and confidant, and now he was his lover. 

He was Shiro’s and Shiro was his, and everything felt so fucking good he nearly cried. 

The drag of Shiro’s dick as it moved inside him. The warm breeze across his flushed skin. The soft press of lips between his shoulder blades. Keith wanted to make it last forever—but forever was apparently just a few more thrusts, withShiro’s warm, calloused fingers snaking beneath Keith’s body to wrap around his dick, and Keith was sobbing as he came in thick spurts over the blanket. 

“So perfect,” Shiro cried, burying his face in the back of Keith’s neck as Keith came down from his orgasm. 

For a moment Keith felt as if he were floating, drifting in a haze of pleasure-induced euphoria. He closed his eyes and knew the second he got home he would dig out his acrylics—could picture the streaks of black and red he’d drag across his canvas in thick stripes of paint in some desperate attempt to immortalize this moment into something tangible that no one else could ever take from him. As if anything could ever be as beautiful as the way he felt about Shiro. 

“Fuck,” Keith grunted, arms giving out on him as Shiro gave his fingers a squeeze. There was a tremble in Shiro’s body as he rocked his hips slowly, clearly trying to control himself. 

Keith didn’t want him too. 

“You made me feel so good,” he told Shiro, turning his head so his cheek was smashed against the ground and his words were no longer muffled by the blanket. The angle wasn’t right to see Shiro’s face, but Keith could feel the way his words had made him shiver. It made him feel braver—made his next words even easier to say. “You’re such a good boy, Shiro. Come on, come for me. Show me how good you are.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected, but having Shiro let out a strangled moan as he came from Keith’s words alone certainly wasn’t it. It was so much hotter than he could imagine, and he was pretty sure the needy sound Shiro made against the side of his neck would be etched into his brain forever. 

The sensations were almost too much, his body so sensitive as Shiro rocked his hips slowly riding out his own release. When he was done he collapsed on Keith’s back, crushing him into the blanket.

Shiro’s solid weight was soothing, every inch of their bare flesh pressed together as their heartbeats slowed into a steady rhythm. Or, his own did anyway. Shiro’s heart was still thudding against Keith’s back like a freight train.

“M’dead,” Shiro grunted breathlessly. “You’ve killed me.”

“I guess that means I can eat your slice of pie,” Keith teased, grinning when Shiro immediately rolled off Keith’s back onto the blanket. “Oh wow, what a swift and miraculous recovery, Mr. Shirogane.”

Shiro huffed out a laugh, tucking his right arm under his head and turning his eyes on Keith. “So, uh...was it okay?”

There was the faintest hint of a blush blossoming across his face and had it been anyone else Keith, would’ve assumed it was a blatant attempt to fish for compliments, but with Shiro he knew the question was genuine. 

“Oh, I don’t know, we might need to practice a lot until you get better.”

“We— _practice_ ,” Shiro spluttered.

“Yeah. A lot,” Keith said, proud of himself for keeping a straight face as he reached out to lay his palm across the flat of Shiro’s stomach. “But I’m here for you and I’m up to the task. It’ll probably be hard work but I’m willing to sacrifice myself for—”

“Shut up, you asshole,” Shiro laughed, rolling onto his side to silence Keith with a kiss.

Despite what they’d just done, the kiss was sweet—almost chaste—as Shiro slipped his fingers into Keith’s hair and hummed with obvious contentment. When he pulled back the smile on his face was nothing short of breathtaking.

“So, am I still an asshole?” Keith teased, stroking his fingers along the jut of Shiro’s hip.

“Yeah, but you’re my asshole.”

Keith laughed. “I’m your very sweaty and sticky asshole.”

“I might have a few tissues in one of my pockets,” Shiro said, still smiling at Keith like a loon. “I can check.”

“Nah, you worked hard, princess. Just lay back and look pretty and I’ll look.”

Shiro’s blush deepened, and Keith filed the knowledge away for next time as he gave Shiro’s shoulder a playful nudge to get him to lay back before leaning over his stomach to reach for Shiro’s haphazardly discarded jeans. Shiro closed his eyes, the smile on his face apparently a permanent feature as Keith rummaged through his pockets. He didn’t find any tissue, but he did find a comb, one single Tootsie Toll, three quarters, and a folded up piece of paper.

“What’s this?” Keith asked, pulling the paper all the way out of the back pocket. 

“Hmm,” Shiro hummed, eyes still shut. He was very clearly not paying attention.

Keith sat back on his heels, unfolding the paper, his eyes widening in surprise as he tried to take in what he was looking at. It looked like blueprints for a house. Shiro wasn’t the best at drawing, but the more Keith looked, the more certain he became that it was definitely blueprints.

“Are you building a house?” Keith asked, dragging his fingertips over the room labeled bedroom and pushing down the rush of fantasies it invoked. Suddenly he could see them both standing in the kitchen—Shiro stumbling from the bedroom in his pajamas sleepy and warm, sharing breakfast, sharing _a life_.

“What?” Shiro stuttered, eyes flying open. “Oh you...uh...I wasn’t gonna show you that yet.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry. I didn’t know it was private I just—”

“Keith,” Shiro said soothingly, reaching out to encircle his wrist with warm fingers. “Nothing is private from you. I don’t have secrets from you. It’s just...it was going to be a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?” Keith asked, trying to figure out what the unlabeled rooms might be, or exactly what Shiro was planning.

“Uh, well—for you. Or us really. Us.”

“ _Us_ ,” Keith repeated, suddenly feeling like there wasn’t enough oxygen in his lungs. Did Shiro mean what he thought he meant?

“I mean, only if you want it to be. It’s just...don’t get me wrong, I love my grandparents, but it’s getting kind of old having no privacy. I don’t want to move far, they might need me, and the farm needs me. But I think it’s time, you know? I’ve been talking to some contractors about where the best place to build something would be. It’s not like it would be anything big or fancy, but it’d be ours.”

 _Ours_ Keith thought. Fuck.

“You’re building a house so I can move in with you?” Keith whispered, needing to be sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Maybe Shiro had fucked him so good he’d actually lost consciousness and this was all just a dream. It sure felt like a fucking dream.

Misunderstanding his tone, Shiro blanched. “I’m not trying to stifle you or anything. I know you’ve got your last year of school still and uh...maybe you don’t wanna move back home forever after. It could just be a place you could visit too. You don’t have to move in with me. Even if you just wanted to visit I, uh—I’ve been doing some research, and I thought I could build you a studio right here.” He pointed to the little room in the corner. “I know how much you like to draw and paint in the evenings, and they say west-facing rooms are best for that so, you know.”

He paused and Keith felt like it was his turn to say something, but he was too surprised to do anything but stare at Shiro unblinking.

“It would be your room regardless, baby. There’s no pressure. It doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to mean, and even if you didnt wanna move in with me just yet or something, I’d still build you the studio and, shit, Keith say something, please.”

“You want to build me a studio? You’re gonna build us a house?” 

Saying the words out loud didn’t make them any easier for Keith’s raging heart to come to terms with. Not even in his most self-indulgent fantasies could compare to this moment.

“Yes?” Shiro whispered.

“Yes,” Keith laughed, the blueprints fluttering into the grass and Keith tossed it aside in favor of crashing his lips against Shiro’s. “Fuck yes.”

“You scared me, baby.”

“As if there’s a universe where I would ever say no,” Keith breathed, kissing him again.

“You never know,” Shiro murmured, cupping Keith’s face in his hands.

“I do,” Keith said resolutely. “There’s not a universe in which you aren’t my everything, Shiro.”

Shiro’s breath stuttered on the inhale, hands trembling on Keith’s cheeks. “I can’t believe you wanna live with me.”

“I wanna _everything_ with you,” Keith said, turning his face to press a kiss to the inside of Shiro’s palm. 

Shiro swallowed audibly closing his eyes. When he opened them the amount of love in them took Keith’s breath away.

“I love you,” Keith said, kissing his palm again and nuzzling his cheek into Shiro’s hand. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, baby,” Shiro whispered, stroking Keith’s other cheek with his free hand.

Keith knew then he was exactly where he wanted to be.

He was home.

And home, well, that was wherever Shiro was.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream about Sheith with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/goldentruth813)
> 
> Loppadraws drew the most handsome Shiro inspired by this fic which you can see [here](https://twitter.com/loppadraws/status/1217069051509428224).


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